


Our Favourite Things

by Honey_Rae_Pluto



Series: Short stories [3]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by The Sound of Music, Love, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Rae_Pluto/pseuds/Honey_Rae_Pluto
Summary: Sound of Music AU!Roger takes the job offer to work as a nanny to the seven children of a mysterious captain May, not best pleased about having to work surrounded by this many posh people, will he break through the layers and get to know them all?Will he get to like Captain May?
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Series: Short stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979560
Comments: 15
Kudos: 26





	1. The Hills Are Dead Quiet

“Roger, just do the bloody job.” Tim was packing his bag for him since he’d taken to sulking on his bed, still in his pyjamas, “It’s just a year.”

“A year. A whole arsed year,” Roger emphasised, “A year in a posh fucking house with a bunch of stuck up kids and stuck up parents who don’t want to look after their own fucking spawn.”

“Rog,” Tim smacked him with a file, “get up... they’re a lovely family, single dad and a working household of staff.”

“Staff? What is he a king or something?”

“A Captain, he was high up in the army until he retired last year, wife left him with seven ki-”

“Seven?” Roger gawked, “And I’m supposed to be able to nanny seven children? No wonder the poor woman left him. How am I supposed to do that?”

“Because you’re thirty one?” Tim smacked him again, still not succeeding in getting the blond to stand up.

“Thirty one and still living in a bed-sit with you, I don’t even have a full degree,” Roger shook his head, “I should just go back to college.”

“Or you could learn on the job, look - the eldest is thirteen, youngest is one. That’s a good range of ages, it’ll show up really good on your paperwork,” Tim zipped up his suitcase, “Captain May pays way better than anything we normally see, and it’s free board and paid holidays.”

“Sounds like a right cunt.”

“Roger,” Tim sat down on the bed, “Just try it, if you hate it you can re enroll. But please, just give it a shot.”

“Why is he hiring from here? South east London?” The job was in Sussex after all, and there had to be better people for the job than students. “You don’t think there’s anything wrong with the kids? Like I’ll go there and their heads will start spinning.”

“Probably to diversify them, they go to quite a posh school, he’s got a physics and maths degree anyway - they’re surrounded by wealth.” Tim flicked through the papers, “They’ve never even had childcare before.”

“Oh, lovely, so I’m either the monkey at the zoo for the rich gremlins to look at, or I’m the test run for a proper nanny.”

“It’s a job, and you need one.”

“True dat.”

***

The house was massive, red brick and painted white gates, greenery as far as the eye could see, several cars lined up by the front door, ivy caressing the walls of the house. Fucking rich people.

The valet was waiting for him by the front door, dressed posh even in his uniform, taking his bags immediately. “I’m John Deacon, sir,” He smiled, opening the door seamlessly, “If you’d like to follow me I’ll lead you to your room.”

“Eh,” could he have looked like any more of a chav? His ripped jeans were the opposite of everything inside the house, cheap primark rucksack didn’t help. Fuck, there was even big paintings of old people on the walls - it was that sort of house. “Sure.”

"Captain May is at work at the moment, but the children should arrive any moment now," John told him, "I've set out some papers about them in your room, Mr Taylor. Hopefully that will help with their schooling.”

"Does Captain May do much teaching himself? He's a mathematician after all, and they are his kids." Roger asked, looking around. Big red rugs, high ceilings and those posh skirting boards that go on the ceiling.

"Sir doesn't have time for it, that is why you have been employed. You are to teach them the three Rs at their respective levels - tutors and their school will do the rest." John led him up two flights of ornate stairs and along a corridor to a door, “Your room.”

Roger looked around, a single bed with blankets instead of a duvet, a bureau, armchair, big wooden wardrobe - looked like a scene out of some period downtown abbey.

“I’ll let you get set up,” John nodded, “I’ll meet you here in fifteen minutes to give you a tour of the house and staff.”

***

He'd just been given the grand tour, so far he'd only remembered the name of the tutor; Freddie, and the butler John, there were various cooks and cleaners, teachers and people who seemed to just exist temporarily in the house. The infamous Captain and his seven kids were nowhere to be seen, however - and from what he’d seen there wasn’t much that was for children in this house, as big as it was, there was no xbox or bikes or even simpler toys for the youngest.

“The children should be arriving home in a moment,” John told him, pausing when he heard the footsteps coming up the front steps. “As I expected.”

Roger watched as seven curly haired children filed in, all in pristine uniforms - the girls in checked red pinnifores, the boys in crisp white shirts and shorts. All wore the obnoxious blazer and tie combination Roger remembered laughing at as a child when the public school trips coincided with the private school ones.

"If you would," he motioned for Roger to stand closer as Freddie let the children into the large entrance of the house where they obediently lined up, "From oldest to youngest; Harold, Sophie, Barnaby, Thomas, Elizabeth, William and Rosalyn."

"Well it's nice to meet you all," Roger smiled, hoping they'd start looking a bit more natural, "Why don't we head up to the nursery to get to know each other? I'm Roger."

"Papa told us we were to call you Governess." Barnaby replied quietly, "Is it not too informal to use your first name?"

"Not at all. Come on," Roger shook his head, carefully picking up the youngest, the one year old just holding onto his hair. He thought for a moment she was going to yank, but no: she seemed to just be holding it, gently studying it in her tiny hands. Kinda precious really. "I don't suppose any of you like music?"

“Mr Mercury teaches us to play Chopin and Debussy on the piano,” Sophie told him, not looking best pleased as they were taken upstairs, “We’re all able with the violin though, and I myself am proficient in both clarinet and harp playing.”

"Oh,” Roger almost wanted to laugh, she was about twelve, why did she have to speak like a elderly woman? “I play the drums.”

“Like in an orchestra?” Barnaby asked again, falling into step with him.

“Nah, like in a rock band.”

“Oh,” Barnaby seemed to consider this for a moment, “I’m sure it’s lovely, dad sometime plays his gui-”

Harold glared at him, stopping him short. Roger could tell instantly that the two eldest were very much the guard dogs to the whole group, but now he was very curious about their father? Must be some pratt with a whole draw of silver cutlery up his arse.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> Firstly, sorry for the massive wait, I got bogged down with other stories. Thnak you all for all the kind comments and kudos, it means a lot x

"So," Roger had brought the kids to their sparse nursery room. There really wasn't much in there at all, some books, maps, French verb tables: lots of educational things. Nothing that shouted fun. "Your dad must be a barrel of laughs, boring old man."

"I don't think you should be talking about your employer like that, Mr Taylor," Harold chipped in, clearly not happy with the new au pair (that being the nicest term for babysitter he could think of, not because he considered Roger a social equal). "Father is only two years older than you, unless your paperwork is wrong."

"That makes him what? Thirty three?" Roger asked. He didn't dislike the eldest boy, but his attitude was irritating. "With seven kids and no partner. So he's panicked and thrown money at the problem."

It seemed pretty obvious to Roger, the guy was never home, the kids were basically house trained and now the oldest two were at their rebellious stage they had no outlet except sarcasm.

Poor buggers.

"When was the last time you saw your dad?"

"He's just come back from a work trip," Elizabeth told him, the five year old didn't seem to be as suspicious as the others, "But he's been too busy. Freddie said father would come visit us on Sunday for lunch."

"That sounds... That sounds lovely, sweetheart," Roger smiled a little. He almost wanted to say that that wasn't right, he shouldn't be visiting, he should be with them all the time. But now wasn't the time and Elizabeth wasn't the problem, "Why don't we get some snacks and fizzy juice and get to know each other."

"Is that going to help?" Sophie asked, "You know our names and ages. Our school grades are in the big folder on the shelf and we're not to bring food up here anyway."

"That's why we keep it a secret, dear," Roger smiled, "Cheer up a little."

Sophie scoffed, "I've got places to be, Mr Taylor. I think I'll join in again once there's a constructive lesson."

Roger sighed and watched her go, Harold following with a similar look of boredom. Looks like getting these kids to behave would be harder than he thought.  
Looks like he'd have to have a few words with the mysterious Captain May too.

“I’d like to have some snacks with you,” Barnaby told him, “Me and Tom bring chocolates and sweets to the shippon, we watch the birds from there.”

***

Roger learnt a few things from his afternoon picnic with the youngest kids, he learned how their mother had disappeared to live with her lover and that she didn’t come to visit at all, that their father wasn’t involved in combat at all, rather the political side of things and that they were extremely attached to the butler and Freddie.

He had them sitting on the grass in a loose circle, all seemed eager to chat to him, even tiny Rosalyn who just pulled out chunks of grass while the others were talking.

“You’ll like dad when you meet him,” Barnaby told him, “He’s really nice, and so are you.”

“Thanks B,” Roger smiled, although he doubted it, “I’m only going to be your nanny for a year, you know. I’m sure we’ll have fun in that time.”

“Where are you going after? Will you forget about us?”

“Oh I don’t think I’m going to forget about you lot in a hurry.” Roger shook his head, sipping the can of coke he’d brought out with him, these kids would probably hit the roof if they had that much sugar, “After I’ll go back to college, maybe, might do some other part time jobs.”

“We can go to boarding school if we want to,” Tom told him, “Papa says it’s up to us, but he doesn’t like the idea of having us be away for so long.”

Would he notice? Roger thought, would he even be home enough to notice? “Well that's certainly a good education, nothing like that where I grew up.”

“Where did you grow up then?” Elizabeth asked.

“Eh… East London,” Roger kept it vague, “My family lived on a council estate, still does actually.”

“What’s that?”

How does he explain poverty to rich children? He looked at them, all well dressed and washed and tidy looking, even if they were a bit lanky they were far from underweight, definitely not from having to miss meals. They had a life of lessons and tutors and learning with no monetary constraints, at their ages he’d been where? Borrowing a mates scooter to have something to do while his mum was at a tupperware party, failing through all of his classes and having a few bread and butter nights, free school meals and having to hide the playstation when the benefits man came in case they got kicked out?

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Roger smiled at her, “it’s just an area of London… it’s getting a bit cold out, we should really head inside, what do you guys do for grub?”

“Gub?” Rosie squeaked at him, arms holding onto his shirt.

“We call it dinner, Mr Roger,” Barnaby told him, “We go in and clean up, sit at the table while the food is brought to us.”

“Do you help with the dishes at all?”

“The what?”

“Chores?” Roger looked out at five sets of confused eyes, that was something he’d make sure to change, they needed the real world, he could do that much for them, “I’ll explain it tomorrow morning, you kids go get washed up, okay?”

They ran off quickly, trying to impress him. He wasn’t happy about where he was, but if he could do a decent job, or even half decent, he would certainly try his best.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it, there's a few more chapters to come, but feel free to leave asks on my tumblr (Honey-Rae-Pluto)


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